


My 350 Instagram Follower DTIYS!

by overused_underrated



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime, Crowley Loves the Houseplants (Good Omens), Draw This In Your Style Challenge, Gay, Gay Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overused_underrated/pseuds/overused_underrated
Summary: My 350 instagram follower give away! The rules are simple:-Follow me on my instagram (@overused.underrated)-Draw any portion of this scene (however big or small!)-Post it on your page and/or story and tag me (I will reshare it in my stories and add it to my highlight. If not, DM me!)*EDIT* 6/6The deadline to enter is June 30Winners will be announced July 1The 1st place winner will be written into one of my stories!The 2nd place winner will get a short (~500 word) prompt of their choice (with some exclusions)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 5





	My 350 Instagram Follower DTIYS!

It was a quiet evening in the apartment. Aziraphale and Crowley were a sleeping, huddled mass on the couch; they nuzzled into one another, as if they were the only two people on the planet. Aziraphale was swaddled in a tartan blanket, his head leaning against Crowley’s shoulder. They had been marathoning Buzzfeed Unsolved while “studying,” but had fallen asleep. Their small TV was on, its soft glow illuminating their living room.  
For college students, they had a moderately-sized two-bedroom apartment. They had a kitchen with a hodgepodge mix of plates and pots. Aziraphale was an avid baker and took great pride in his creations. As much as he liked to bake, he despised cleaning. There were usually dishes in the sink until Crowley couldn’t stand it anymore and cleaned them. He, on the other hand, had plants everywhere; there was a snake plant in the living room beside the couch, bamboo in the bathroom, an aloe plant on their dining room table, a ficus by the door, and his bedroom looked like a greenhouse. It was a sight to see.  
Aziraphale’s room was similarly packed, but with books instead of plants. His shelves were lined with Oscar Wilde, Alice Walker, Emily Dickinson, the Bronte sisters, and hundreds more. On the wall by his bed, which was always neatly made, hung a massive rainbow flag. He had one rule: if Crowley needed to, he was welcome to use his “supplies” in the nightstand drawer. Crowley assumed that he meant pot, but one day discovered that it was in fact condoms and lube. He never mentioned it to Aziraphale.  
Though they each had desks, they both studied at the dining room table. It was littered in papers, textbooks, and half finished assignments. They had, on more than one occasion, grabbed the other’s notes in a rush to get to class and had to turn assignments in late because of it. Rather than eating at the table, they ate most of their meals on the couch. The coffee table was currently littered with a half eaten pizza, an empty sushi platter, and a mostly-empty bottle of cheap wine.  
Aziraphale’s favorite part of the apartment, besides his bedroom, was the balcony. He and Crowley had a small table and two chairs so they could enjoy the space together. The best time, Aziraphale would argue, was sunset. The apartment faced westward, so they had a phenomenal view of the sky melting into darkness. After the moon rose, the evening sky would spread itself out; it was beautiful. Oftentimes, Crowley would sneak out late at night and strum his guitar to the stars. Aziraphale would lie in bed and listen to him play, as if it were a concert solely for him. He’d fall fast asleep and have the most pleasant dreams.  
Tonight, they rested soundly on the couch. Their breathing and heartbeats synchronized with each other, matching the oscillating photos on the TV screen. It wasn’t a late night, only 10:47 pm, but both were sound asleep, comforted in the feeling of not being alone.


End file.
